Thoughts from a Therapist
Why Do I Feel Like I'm Not Good Enough? Understanding Your Inner Critic and Self-Worth | Therapy with Emma
Published Aug 16, 2026

Have you ever had the feeling that, no matter what you achieve or how much you do, it still somehow isn't enough? Perhaps you look at other people and wonder why they seem to have everything together while you're constantly questioning yourself. Maybe you tell yourself you should be doing more, achieving more, coping better, looking better or simply being better. And even when someone tells you that you're doing brilliantly, there's a little voice inside saying,
"Yes, but..."
"You could have done that better."
"What if they realise you're not actually good enough?"
That voice is your inner critic. Most of us have one. For some people, it's relatively quiet. For others, it can be relentless, leaving them with the feeling that however much they achieve, they will never quite measure up. But where does that voice come from? And what if, rather than being our enemy, our inner critic developed because it was trying to protect us?
We are more than one voice
One of the things I find fascinating about therapy is discovering that there isn't always just one version of ourselves. Different situations can bring out different ways of thinking, feeling and responding. I sometimes describe these as configurations of self, different parts or ways of being that can become more prominent at different times.
You might recognise a critical part that pushes you to do better, a people-pleasing part that wants everyone to be happy, an avoidant part that wants to escape difficult feelings, a vulnerable part that feels frightened or rejected, or a nurturing part that knows how to offer compassion.
These aren't separate personalities, and they aren't separate from who we are. They are different ways that we have learned to respond to ourselves, other people and the world around us.
In my own self-reflection, I've identified five configurations that I jokingly call my "itty bitty shitty committee": the Critic, Little Emma, the Peacekeeper, the Nurturer and the Avoidant. They all have different roles, and I've come to understand that, although some of them can be frustrating, they have all developed for a reason.
For this blog, I'd like to introduce you to one in particular: the Critic.
Meet your inner critic
The Critic is the voice that tells us we're not doing enough. It says things like, "You should have done more," "You could have done that better," "You shouldn't have said that. What will people think?" or simply, "You're not good enough."
Sometimes the Critic looks like perfectionism. Sometimes it looks like constantly comparing ourselves to other people. Sometimes it drives us to achieve, achieve, achieve because somewhere inside we believe that if we can just achieve enough, we'll finally feel worthy.
But here's something I've learned through my own work and through working with clients: the Critic isn't necessarily the enemy.
Instead of immediately trying to silence it, we can become curious about it. What is it trying to do? Perhaps it's trying to protect us from failure. Perhaps it believes that perfection will prevent rejection. Perhaps it learned that achievement brought approval. Perhaps it thinks that constantly striving is what keeps us safe.
And this is where things become interesting. Because the Critic may be using an old strategy to try to protect us in our present life.
Where did we learn that we weren't enough?
Our sense of who we are doesn't develop in isolation. Our early relationships and experiences can influence the way we understand ourselves and what we believe we need to be to belong.
Attachment theory helps us understand our fundamental human need for connection, safety and belonging. As children, we depend on important people around us, and we can become very sensitive to what seems to bring approval, connection and acceptance.
Sometimes the messages are obvious: "You need to try harder," "Don't make a fuss," or "Why can't you be more like...?" But often they're much more subtle.
We can begin to develop internal rules such as, "I'm good enough if I'm successful," "I'm worthy if people like me," "I'm lovable if I don't cause problems," or "I'm acceptable if I get things right." And these rules can follow us into adulthood.
Conditions of worth
Carl Rogers called these kinds of internal rules conditions of worth. Instead of experiencing our worth as something inherent… "I am worthy because I am me", we can start believing that our worth depends on what we do or how we are perceived.
"I'm worthy if I achieve."
"I'm worthy if I'm useful."
"I'm worthy if I make everyone happy."
"I'm worthy if I don't make mistakes."
The Critic can then become the internal enforcer of these conditions of worth. "You haven't done enough. You need to work harder. Don't let them down. You can't get this wrong."
The trouble is that there is always another target to reach. We achieve something, and the Critic moves the goalposts. So, we achieve more, and the goalposts move again. We can spend years trying to earn something we already had: our worth.
What once helped us can become outdated
This is something I think is important when we explore our different configurations of self. The strategies we developed weren't necessarily bad. They may have helped us at the time.
The Peacekeeper may have learned to keep everyone happy because conflict felt unsafe. The Avoidant may have learned to escape difficult feelings because they felt overwhelming. The Critic may have learned to push us relentlessly because it believed that failure or rejection was dangerous.
These responses may once have helped us cope. But we grow. Our circumstances change. We develop new relationships, experiences, choices and resources. Yet sometimes the old internal rules remain.
What once protected us can later restrict us.
The Critic may still be behaving as though we're that younger version of ourselves who needs to get everything right to be accepted. But perhaps we need something different now.
Learning to hear a different voice
Maslow's work on human needs also reminds us that we have fundamental needs for belonging, esteem and ultimately for becoming more fully ourselves. Sometimes we become so focused on earning approval or proving our worth that we lose sight of what we actually want and need.
This connects with another of Rogers' ideas: congruence. Congruence is about our inner experience and the way we present ourselves being reasonably aligned.
But what happens when we're constantly saying, "I'm fine," when inside we're exhausted? Or "Of course, I'll do it," when everything in us is saying, "I don't want to"?
We can become disconnected from ourselves because we're living according to what we believe we should be rather than what we genuinely feel and need.
So, whose voice is speaking?
Transactional Analysis gives us another useful way of understanding our internal dialogue. The Critical voice can resemble the Critical Parent: "You should... You must... You ought to... That's not good enough."
But we can also develop a Nurturing Parent voice: "It's okay. You don't have to get everything right. You're allowed to make mistakes."
And our Adult can help us step back and ask: "Is this belief actually true now? Does this rule still serve me? What would I say to someone I love if they were speaking to themselves this way?"
How I work with the Critic in therapy
When someone comes to therapy feeling that they're never good enough, I don't want to simply tell them, "Stop being so hard on yourself." If it were that easy, they probably wouldn't be struggling with it in the first place. Instead, I like to become curious about the Critic. We might begin by noticing it. What does it say? When does it appear? What situations make it louder?
Then we can name it. Sometimes giving the voice an identity creates a little distance from it. Instead of "I am not good enough," we can begin to recognise, "My Critic is telling me I'm not good enough." That's a subtle but important difference. We can then explore what the Critic is trying to protect us from. Where might we have learned that we must be this way? Is that belief still true? Does that rule still serve us?
And perhaps most importantly: what does the more vulnerable part of us need instead?
This is where the Nurturer can become important. Rather than fighting with the Critic, we can begin developing a different internal response, one based on compassion, acceptance and understanding.
Integration, not elimination
For me, the goal isn't to get rid of these different configurations. The Critic might still have something useful to say. The Avoidant might still alert us when something feels overwhelming. The vulnerable part might still need reassurance. The Peacekeeper might still value harmony. And the Nurturer can offer compassion when things are difficult.
The difference is that they don't have to run the show. We can listen to all of them while allowing our more authentic, present-day self to decide what happens next.
Integration isn't about choosing one part of us and rejecting the others. It's about understanding them and allowing each to have a healthier role.
Perhaps the most important thing I want to leave you with is this: you don't have to be perfect. You don't have to make everyone happy. You don't have to achieve more. You don't have to constantly improve yourself. You don't have to have everything figured out. You don't have to earn your worth.
Therapy isn't about fixing something fundamentally wrong with you. It's about understanding the different ways you've learned to protect yourself, connect with others and make sense of the world, and deciding whether those ways of responding still serve you today.
Some questions you may like to reflect on:
- What does your inner Critic tell you that you "should" be doing or being?
- Where do you think you learned that you had to meet those conditions to be "good enough"?
- What might change if, instead of criticising yourself when you struggle, you responded with the same compassion you would offer someone you love?
Sometimes becoming more confident isn't about becoming a completely different person. Sometimes it's about getting to know yourself more deeply and learning that you don't have to be perfect to be worthy.
You don't have to become someone else to be enough.
If you recognise yourself in this blog and would like to explore how therapy could help you develop a kinder and more authentic relationship with yourself, please know that you don't have to navigate these patterns alone.
I offer a warm, supportive space where we can gently explore your experiences at a pace that feels right for you. Together, we can begin to understand where these patterns came from, how they may have helped you in the past, and whether they are still serving the life you want to live today.
You are very welcome to get in touch for a free 15-minute consultation to see whether working together feels like the right fit.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
Why Do I Keep Putting Everyone Else First? Understanding People-pleasing | Therapy with Emma
Published July 15, 2026

Firstly, if you're reading this and you've ever found yourself wondering, "Why do I always put everyone else first?" or "Am I a people pleaser?", I want you to know that you're certainly not alone.
Many people come into therapy saying things like:
"I just can't say no."
"I hate disappointing people."
"I worry too much about what other people think of me."
"I always seem to put everyone else's needs before my own."
For many people, this feels like being kind, caring or thoughtful. And whilst these are wonderful qualities, there is an important difference between caring for others and consistently neglecting yourself.
Over time, always putting everyone else's needs before your own can leave you feeling emotionally exhausted, overwhelmed, resentful, and disconnected from who you are.
What Is People-Pleasing?
People-pleasing is often described as prioritising other people's needs, feelings or expectations above your own, sometimes at the expense of your own wellbeing.
It might look like:
- Saying "yes" when you really want to say "no"
- Avoiding conflict at all costs
- Feeling responsible for other people's emotions
- Apologising even when you've done nothing wrong
- Struggling to ask for help
- Feeling guilty when you prioritise yourself
- Constantly seeking reassurance that you've done the "right" thing
Many people don't even realise they have become a people-pleaser because these patterns have become so automatic that they feel like part of who they are. People-pleasing can also make it difficult to recognise your own needs, identify healthy boundaries, or even know what you genuinely want.
Rather than seeing people-pleasing as a personality trait or a weakness, many therapists understand it as something quite different. Instead of asking, "What's wrong with this person?" we ask, "What happened that made this response feel necessary?"
Often, people-pleasing develops as an adaptive strategy. In other words, it is something that once helped us feel safe, accepted, loved or connected.
Where Does It Come From?
Carl Rogers, the founder of Person-Centred Therapy, believed that we are all born with an innate tendency towards growth and authenticity. He referred to this as our actualising tendency. However, as we grow and develop, we can begin to receive messages about what we need to do to be accepted by the important people in our lives. Rogers called these conditions of worth.
These messages may be spoken directly, or they may be communicated more subtly through our experiences.
They might sound like:
"Be good."
"Don't make a fuss."
"Keep everyone happy."
"Always think of others first."
"Don't upset people."
Over time, we may begin to believe that our self-worth depends upon meeting other people's expectations rather than trusting our own thoughts, feelings and experiences. Instead of asking ourselves: "What do I need?" we begin asking: "What does everyone else need from me?"
Rogers also described something called incongruence. This happens when there is a gap between who we truly are and the version of ourselves we feel we have to be in order to gain acceptance.
For someone who people-pleases, their authentic self may be feeling exhausted, frustrated or overwhelmed. Yet they continue saying "yes" because saying "no" feels uncomfortable or even unsafe. The larger this gap becomes, the more emotionally draining life can begin to feel. Your Nervous System May Be Trying to Protect You
Modern trauma-informed research offers another helpful way of understanding people-pleasing. Many people are familiar with the nervous system responses of fight, flight and freeze. Some trauma therapists also recognise another protective response known as fawning.
Rather than fighting back or running away, the nervous system attempts to stay safe by maintaining harmony, avoiding conflict and keeping other people happy.
This might look like:
- Agreeing when you disagree
- Over-explaining yourself
- Taking responsibility for everyone else's emotions
- Constantly trying to prevent conflict
- Feeling unable to say "no"
From this perspective, people-pleasing isn't simply about being "too nice." It may be your nervous system responding in the way it learned was safest. If conflict, rejection or criticism once felt threatening, your nervous system may have adapted by prioritising connection over authenticity.
The important thing to remember is that these responses are not conscious choices... they are protective strategies.
What once helped you survive may continue long after the circumstances that created it have changed.
The Hidden Cost
From the outside, people who people-please often appear generous, dependable and caring, yet underneath, there can be a very different experience.
You may find yourself feeling:
- Emotionally drained
- Anxious about disappointing others
- Feeling guilty for taking time for yourself
- Unsure of your own opinions
- Disconnected from your own needs
- Unsure who you are outside of looking after everyone else
Research has consistently shown that chronic self-silencing and people-pleasing are associated with higher levels of anxiety, depression, emotional exhaustion and lower self-esteem.
When we repeatedly ignore our own needs to preserve relationships, it can gradually erode our confidence, our self-worth and our emotional well-being. Sometimes resentment begins to build, not because we don't care, but because we've been carrying far more than feels sustainable.
Looking Outside Ourselves for Validation
Another helpful concept from Person-Centred Theory is locus of evaluation.
Carl Rogers believed that, as we grow and develop, we gradually learn where we look to evaluate ourselves and our experiences.
Ideally, we develop an internal locus of evaluation, where we become better able to trust our own thoughts, feelings and experiences. We learn to ask ourselves, "What feels right for me?" rather than relying solely on the opinions of others.
However, for many people who struggle with people-pleasing, an external locus of evaluation can develop instead. Rather than looking inwards, we find ourselves looking outwards for guidance, reassurance or approval.
Our inner dialogue may sound something like:
"What will they think?"
"Will they be upset with me?"
"Have I disappointed them?"
"Am I doing the right thing?"
Over time, our sense of self-worth can become heavily influenced by the opinions, expectations and approval of other people. This can make it increasingly difficult to recognise our own needs, preferences and values. Instead of trusting our own judgement, we may find ourselves seeking reassurance before making even everyday decisions.
This isn't because we lack confidence or strength; more often, it reflects years of learning that acceptance, love or approval came from meeting other people's expectations rather than trusting our own inner experience.
When we consistently look outside ourselves for validation, we can gradually lose sight of who we are and what truly matters to us.
What Therapy Can Offer
One of the misconceptions about therapy is that it teaches people to become less caring. In my experience, that isn't the goal at all.
Within Person-Centred Therapy, the therapeutic relationship itself becomes the intervention. Carl Rogers believed that when someone experiences empathy, congruence (genuineness) and unconditional positive regard, they gradually begin reconnecting with their own inner experience.
Rather than continuing to live according to conditions of worth or relying on an external locus of evaluation, they become better able to trust their own thoughts, feelings and values. Over time, this can reduce the gap between the person they truly are and the person they feel they have to be.
Therapy isn't about telling you what decisions to make or encouraging you to put yourself first at the expense of others; instead, it offers a safe, accepting relationship where you can gently explore your experiences without judgement. As self-awareness grows, many people find they can more readily recognise their own needs, develop healthier boundaries, and make choices that reflect compassion for others and for themselves.
The goal isn't to become less kind..... It's to discover that your kindness can include you too.
If you recognise yourself in this blog, please know that you don't have to navigate these patterns alone.
I offer a warm, supportive space where we can gently explore your experiences at a pace that feels right for you. Together, we can begin to understand where these patterns came from, how they may have helped you in the past, and whether they are still serving the life you want to live today.
You are very welcome to get in touch for a free 15-minute consultation to see whether working together feels like the right fit.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
Understanding Grief and loss: Making space for what we carry Therapy with Emma
Published June 13, 2026

Firstly, please allow me to say that if you are reading this and you are currently experiencing grief, my heart truly goes out to you.
Grief can feel incredibly heavy, confusing, and at times isolating. And often, it doesn’t look the way we expect it to. When people think of grief, they often associate it with the death of a loved one. And whilst that is one of the most profound forms of grief, it is not the only one.
Grief is much broader than that and can show up in so many ways in our lives, with many faces.
Of course, there is the grief of losing someone we love. And within that, there are many layers, such as the loss of the person, the loss of the life you shared and the loss of the future you had imagined together
But grief also exists in other, sometimes less recognised ways which could be:-
- the end of a relationship or marriage (even if you were the one choosing to end it)
- the loss of a job or identity
- retirement and the shift in purpose
- the loss of a pregnancy or child
- changes in health or the body
- going through menopause and grieving a previous version of yourself
- or even the loss of a beloved pet
For some, the loss of a pet is deeply profound. It can mean losing companionship, routine, emotional safety, and unconditional connection. Yet this type of grief can sometimes feel minimised by others, which can make it even harder to process.
This is often referred to as disenfranchised grief… grief that isn’t always openly acknowledged or validated by society. And yet, it is still grief. It still deserves space.
How Grief Can Show Up
Grief doesn’t follow rules; it can show up looking like sadness, anger, numbness, guilt, anxiety, exhaustion, or even moments of relief
It can come in waves, sometimes when we least expect it. You might feel “okay” one moment, and then something small, like a smell, a memory, or a song, can bring it all back again.
The Stages of Grief.. and the Myth of Linearity
You may have heard of the seven stages of grief:
- shock
- denial
- anger
- bargaining
- depression
- testing
- acceptance
But in reality, grief is not linear. We don’t move neatly from one stage to the next.
You might move through several stages in a single day. You might revisit the same stage months later. You might not relate to some stages at all.
Grief is fluid.
And when we add a multitude of people grieving together, it can become even more complex.
When a family experiences loss, each person grieves in their own way, at their own pace. One person may want to talk, another may withdraw. One may appear “strong”, and another may feel overwhelmed. This can sometimes lead to misunderstandings or distance:
- “Why aren’t they as upset as I am?”
- “Why can’t they talk about it?”
- “Why am I the only one feeling this way?”
And in some cases, this can create an additional layer of grief, a sense of disconnection, or even a feeling like you’ve lost parts of your family dynamic as well.
A Different Way of Understanding Grief
A different way of understanding grief is the Dual Process Model of Grief, which is one of the models I often draw on in my work with clients.
This model suggests that healthy grieving involves an oscillation between two states:
1. Loss-oriented
This is where we feel the grief, process emotions, cry, reflect and/or sit with what has been lost
2. Restoration-oriented
This is where we engage in daily life, focus on tasks, reconnect with others and/or take small steps forward
The key is the movement between the two. If we stay only in the grief, it can feel overwhelming, like we’re drowning and being pulled under by it. But if we avoid it completely, it doesn’t disappear. It often resurfaces later, sometimes unexpectedly, and sometimes more intensely.
The Dual Process Model allows for both feeling and functioning, and importantly, it allows the person to take breaks from grief, experience moments of lightness, and not feel guilty for doing so
Current research on grief and emotional regulation suggests that this natural movement between emotional processing and restoration helps the nervous system self-regulate.
We are not designed to stay in a constant state of emotional intensity.
Instead, the body naturally seeks balance, moving into feeling and then into recovery, and this rhythm supports emotional processing, resilience and gradual integration of loss
Gentle Reflection
If this feels relevant to you, you might take a moment with one or more of these prompts:
- When was the last time you experienced grief in your life? What was the situation, and how did it impact you?
- How does grief tend to show up for you? Do you notice yourself leaning more towards feeling it or avoiding it?
- What might it look like to gently allow both… space to feel and space to restore?
Final Thoughts
Grief is not something to “get over.” It’s something we learn to carry. And over time, with support, awareness, and compassion, that weight can begin to feel different.
Softer.
More integrated.
Less overwhelming.
If you are navigating grief at the moment, you don’t have to do it alone.
I offer a warm, supportive, and trauma-informed space where we can gently explore your experience at your pace.
You are very welcome to reach out for a free 15-minute consultation to see if working together feels right for you.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
How to Choose a Safe, Qualified Therapist in a World Full of Online Advice | Therapy with Emma
Published May 8, 2026

We live in a time where mental health conversations are more visible than ever before. In many ways, I think that’s a really positive thing. People are speaking more openly about anxiety, trauma, relationships, burnout, self-worth, and emotional well-being. Conversations that once stayed hidden are now happening daily across social media.
But alongside this rise in awareness, I’m conscious of something else growing...
More and more people are positioning themselves as experts in healing, trauma, psychology, nervous system regulation, and behaviour change without formal therapeutic training or recognised qualifications behind them.
Often these are people who have been through difficult life experiences themselves... perhaps a relationship breakdown, burnout, grief, addiction, or a period of emotional struggle, and have genuinely learned valuable things from their own journey. I want to say clearly that lived experience absolutely has value. Peer support, coaching, mentoring, and sharing personal experiences can all be incredibly helpful and meaningful.
But counselling and psychotherapy are something different.
And I think, as the public, we must understand that difference.
The Difference Between Support and Therapy
There is nothing unethical about being a coach, mentor, or someone who shares their lived experience to help others.
The concern begins when people present themselves as qualified to work therapeutically with trauma, mental health difficulties, emotional dysregulation, or deep psychological wounds without the clinical training needed to safely hold that work.
In the UK, titles such as counsellor, therapist and psychotherapist are not legally protected in the same way as some other healthcare professions. This can sometimes make it difficult for people seeking support to understand who has undertaken recognised professional training, supervision, and ethical practice, and who may be working primarily from personal experience alone.
That’s why I believe it’s so important for people to feel informed and empowered to ask questions about qualifications, professional memberships and training before therapeutic work.
Therapy is not simply giving advice, sharing opinions, or repeating information learned online.
A qualified therapist is trained not only in theory and interventions, but in:
- ethical practice
- relational dynamics
- safeguarding
- trauma awareness
- risk assessment
- boundaries
- nervous system responses
- working with complex emotions
- and understanding when someone may need additional or specialist support
Perhaps most importantly, therapists are trained to hold emotional space thoughtfully, ethically, and with an awareness of risk
What It Actually Takes to Become a Qualified Therapist
Many people may not realise the depth of training therapists go through before qualifying.
My own journey began with a foundation year in psychology at the university of Derby (level 3), followed by a BSc in Counselling & Psychotherapy (levels 4, 5 and 6), which required a further three years of university study. That training involved not only academic work, but over a hundred hours of clinical placement, working directly with clients under supervision.
Those hours are often unpaid, yet therapists wholeheartedly commit to them because safe practice matters.
Alongside clinical work, therapists are also expected to invest and engage in:
- regular clinical supervision
- Ongoing professional development (CPD)
- ethical frameworks
- reflective practice
- and often their own personal therapy
Even now, after qualifying, my learning continues. I’m currently studying trauma through a course with The Open University, and in September I’ll be returning to university to begin a Master’s in Behaviour Change.
For many therapists, learning never really stops… because people’s emotional well-being deserves to be held with care, responsibility, and humility.
Why This Matters
The difficulty is that social media can sometimes blur the lines between:
- education
- inspiration
- coaching
- and therapy
A confident online presence does not always equal competence.
Someone may speak very well about trauma, attachment, nervous system regulation, or healing… but that does not necessarily mean they have the training required to work safely with vulnerable people.
And when someone is struggling emotionally, overwhelmed, or searching for answers, it can be difficult to know who is genuinely qualified to help. I thought it would be useful to share some insight into where to look for a qualified therapist and what to look for in one.
What to Look for in a Qualified Therapist
If you’re considering therapy, here are some gentle but important questions you can ask:
What qualifications do they hold?
Look for recognised qualifications such as:
- BSc in Counselling & Psychotherapy
- Degrees in Integrative Counselling or Psychotherapy
- MSc or MA-level therapeutic training
- PHD or doctorate in therapeutic training
Are they registered with a professional body?
In the UK, many qualified therapists are members of organisations such as:
- British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy (BACP)
- UK Council for Psychotherapy (UKCP)
These organisations require ethical standards, supervision, and ongoing professional development.
Are they insured and supervised?
Qualified therapists should have:
- professional indemnity insurance
- regular clinical supervision
- clear ethical frameworks
Can you verify their credentials?
The following Trusted directories require therapists to provide evidence of qualifications before joining.
- Counselling Directory
- Psychology Today
So, if a therapist is advertising on here, they hold some form of recognised qualification.
Do they work within their competence?
A good therapist will understand the limits of their training and refer on where appropriate.
This is actually a sign of professionalism, not weakness.
Therapy Is More Than Advice
One of the biggest misconceptions about therapy is that it’s simply about being told what to do.
In reality, therapy is often about:
- being deeply heard
- understanding patterns
- exploring relationships
- working safely with emotions
- learning to regulate the nervous system
- building self-awareness
- and creating meaningful, lasting change
A therapist is not there to “fix” you... they are there to walk alongside you with training, ethics, compassion, and professional responsibility.
Choosing Support That Feels Safe
The internet can be a wonderful place for inspiration and learning. But when it comes to your mental health, it’s important to choose support carefully.
You deserve someone who not only speaks confidently about healing but who has the training, supervision, ethical grounding, and clinical understanding to support you safely. And perhaps more importantly, someone who recognises the responsibility that comes with holding another person’s emotional world.
A Gentle Reflection
If you’ve been feeling overwhelmed by online advice lately, perhaps ask yourself:
- Does this person have recognised training?
- Are they offering support within their competence?
- Do I feel emotionally safe consuming their content?
- Am I receiving genuine therapeutic support, or simply opinions, presented confidently?
Final Thoughts
There is absolutely a space in this world for coaches, mentors, educators, and people sharing lived experience.
But therapy is a profession built on training, ethics, accountability, and years of ongoing learning. And when people place their mental health into someone else’s hands, I believe that distinction matters.
If you’re considering therapy and would like a warm, supportive space to explore things at your own pace, I offer a free 15-minute consultation.
A chance to discuss your issues, ask questions, and see if we feel like the right fit, and begin gently from there.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
Photo credit: Emma Kenmuir.
The photo shows a warm, inviting space at Therapy with Emma.
Learning to Trust the Process | Therapy with Emma
Published Apr 2, 2026

There’s a particular feeling that can come with this time of year… a sense that something is shifting, but not quite settled yet.
You might notice it in yourself; some days may feel lighter, more hopeful, and others may feel heavy again. A sense of movement, but without any real clear direction. It can feel confusing, at times, even disheartening. And often, we can find ourselves questioning it… “Am I moving forward, or going backwards?”
When we look outside, April reflects this perfectly.
One day brings warmth and sunshine, the next hail, wind, or rain. In the UK, we are used to seeing every season, sometimes in one day! It’s unpredictable, changeable, and not quite ready to settle. In many ways, this mirrors the process of therapy and of growth itself. Because as much as we might wish otherwise, growth is rarely neat or linear... It can feel messy.
We often begin a journey of change with hope, a sense that things will start to feel clearer, lighter, easier. But what many people don’t expect is what can often happen in the middle. That in-between space where things are shifting slowly, but not yet settled. Where old patterns are being questioned, but new ways of being haven’t quite taken root. It can feel uncomfortable. Uncertain. At times, sometimes even like you’re going backwards.
It’s easy for our minds to search for certainty in these moments.. to try and label things as either “better” or “worse”, but growth rarely fits neatly into either. This is something the lovely Brené Brown speaks about, how difficult it can be to sit in the unknown, and how quickly we can interpret that discomfort as failure, rather than recognising it as part of growth.
But the truth is, this messy, uncertain middle… is often where the real work is happening, and it's about learning to trust the process.
For me, healing has never been linear. I can sometimes notice within myself a tendency towards black and white thinking. When I feel good, it can feel like “this is it, I’ve cracked it, I know the secret to feeling like this,” and I feel on top of the world. Then when the wind of change comes, and I’m not feeling so great, which is completely normal, my thoughts can quickly shift to “oh no,I dont feel so good again” and I can easily begin to think that this is the new normal.
But the reality is, we all have ups and downs... that is life, and part of learning to trust the process is becoming more fluid with that... allowing the ups and downs, rather than attaching to either end of them, as ever it comes back to letting go, of our expectations, of ourselves, and of rigid thought processes.
Personally, this winter, felt more difficult than usual. I normally go away in December and get some winter sun, which helps carry me through the darker months. But this year, after having major surgery in October, I wasn’t able to fly. And I really noticed the difference in my frame of mind.
What helped me was talking to those around me, opening up about how I was feeling, good nutrition, moving when I could, and gently tracking my days. Not in a rigid or pressured way, but simply noticing, was it a good day, an okay day, or a more difficult one? At first, there were quite a few low days. Then some okay days began to appear, with the occasional good day here and there. And slowly, over time, that began to shift. Now, I’m noticing many more good days, with the odd okay day woven in.
Nothing dramatic. No sudden breakthrough... Just a gradual change.
And this is often how change happens, not in big, dramatic shifts, but in small, almost unnoticeable movements over time, and when we look at nature, it makes sense.
In April, things are becoming more visible, the light is stretching out in the evenings, and buds are peeking their way through on the trees. The world is waking up with more colour and more light.
But even now, the weather doesn’t fully settle, and growth doesn’t either. There is still unpredictability, still fluctuation, and yet… things are still growing.
I can feel that alignment in myself, too. More energy, more light, and more motivation to start putting things into place again as I'm waking up and shaking the winter off. Recently, I joined an live online fitness class in the mornings, which really helps me feel part of something, connected and ready to take on the day. Getting outside for a walk, feeling the sunshine on my face, and making the most of the lighter days has also lifted me.
Some weeks, I manage it every day. Other weeks it might be three or four, but what I’ve learned is… I don’t beat myself up about that anymore. Because that is still consistent. Consistency doesn’t have to mean seven days a week. It means not giving up. It means starting where you are, not where you think you should be.
It’s about honouring yourself.
A waterfall begins with just one drop, and, over time, it becomes powerful and a force to be reckoned with. Water is one of the most powerful forces on earth, and we are made up of around 60% water. Drip by drip, things build. Small actions add up. Consistency becomes habit. And this is often what growth looks like. Not a dramatic transformation, but quiet persistence.
This is also where vulnerability comes in, something Brené Brown speaks about so powerfully. Not vulnerability as weakness, but as the willingness to stay present with ourselves, even when things feel uncertain or unfinished.To keep going, even when it feels unclear. To take the first step, even if you can't see the rest of the stairway.. To trust that something is shifting, even if you can’t yet fully see it.
You might recognise this in yourself if you feel like you’re in between where you were and where you want to be. If progress feels inconsistent, or you find yourself questioning whether anything is really changing at all.
If that’s the case, you’re not alone... This is often what growth feels like.
So perhaps the question isn’t “am I there yet?”
But instead…
- What in your life might still be quietly growing, even if you can’t fully see it yet?
- What small step or action could you take this week that signals movement, even if it feels tentative?
- Think of a recent “setback” – what might it be teaching you about resilience, learning, or your own process?
Because sometimes, the most important shifts are the ones happening beneath the surface. And whether that’s building healthier routines, taking care of your wellbeing, or even reaching out for support… We don’t have to wait until we’re in crisis. I often think of how we regularly take our cars for an MOT to make sure they’re roadworthy, yet so often we don't give the same importance to our mental health, often waiting until things feel overwhelming before checking in or taking action.
It doesn’t have to get to that point.
Learning to trust the process isn’t about having certainty. It’s about allowing things to unfold, being patient with yourself, and staying with the journey... even when it feels messy.
If something in this resonated with you, therapy can offer a gentle space to explore that, at your own pace.
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to be willing to begin.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
Photo credit: Emma Kenmuir.
The photo shows a waterfall in the woods behind Chatsworth House.
The Quiet Courage of beginning again | Therapy with Emma
Published March 12, 2026

In January we explored the idea that perhaps the pressure of “new year, new me” doesn’t always sit comfortably with the reality of winter. January is still a time of darkness, rest and slower energy, and sometimes the kindest thing we can do for ourselves is honour that rather than push against it.
In February, we turned our attention to the relationship we have with ourselves. Self-love can sometimes feel like a buzzword, but in reality, it often begins with something much quieter… noticing the way we speak to ourselves and beginning to soften that inner voice.
As March arrives, something subtle begins to shift again.The daffodils start injecting some much-needed colour back into the world. Lambing season brings the gentle joy of new life after the cold winter months. The days stretch out a little longer, yet the weather still teases us with one lovely warm day here and there before reminding us that winter hasn’t quite finished yet.
For me, March is when things begin to stir... but nothing is fully in bloom yet, and in many ways, it reminds me of the therapeutic journeys I often walk alongside my clients. I often find that I can see the growth beginning long before they can. At first, it might look like one good day in the week. Then perhaps two. Slowly, almost without noticing, something begins to shift. Over time, the balance changes until eventually it becomes two difficult days in the week rather than five or six. And then perhaps just the occasional hard day appears every now and again.
Growth rarely happens in a dramatic moment; more often, it unfolds quietly.
Watching the lambs take their very first steps always makes me smile at this time of year. Their legs look far too long for their tiny bodies, and those first few steps can be wobbly and uncertain. They stumble, steady themselves, and then try again.
Change for us can feel a little like that too.
Those first steps towards doing something differently can feel unfamiliar, unsteady, and even a little uncomfortable. We might question ourselves, lose our balance slightly, or feel unsure of the ground beneath us... But those small, unsteady steps are still movement.
March, to me, represents those early signs of change. Small shifts, emerging energy, tentative hope. A sense that something new might be possible, even if we’re not quite there yet. For many people, this time of year can also bring a subtle pressure. As the days grow longer, we might feel a sense that we should be doing more or getting our lives together.
But growth doesn’t work like that, nature doesn’t rush.. and neither do we.
There is something about March that feels like coming out of emotional hibernation. The light is returning, yet the mornings can still feel cold. Everything is slowly finding its rhythm again. Emotional change often looks exactly the same.
Real growth rarely arrives with fireworks or grand declarations. More often, it shows itself in small, meaningful moments.It might look like setting a boundary for the first time. Saying no when you would normally say yes. Taking a walk when your mind feels heavy. Speaking honestly about something you’ve been holding inside. Or even booking that first therapy session.
These things may seem small on the surface, but small movements are often where real change begins.
For me personally, growth over the past six years has rarely been linear. Six years ago, I ended a relationship which left me extremely cautious about entering into something again. At times, it felt like the longest winter of my life. But slowly, over time, something has begun to soften.
I can feel myself lowering my defences, coming back to myself, and becoming more open. At the same time, whilst softening in one area of my life, I have also become firmer in another; I'm much better at honouring myself and not people-pleasing. I have become more mindful about where I invest my time, energy and love — choosing to place it where it is reciprocated and, most importantly, where it is genuinely appreciated.
And if I’m honest, the only person who has really been holding me back at times… is me. Which is often the case for many of us. That shift hasn’t happened overnight. It has taken time, reflection, and patience with myself.
You may recognise some of this in yourself if you’ve been feeling stuck for a while, but sense something beginning to shift. Perhaps some days feel lighter than they used to, even if progress still feels slow. Or maybe there is a quiet part of you wondering whether it might be time to do something differently.
These gentle shifts are often where meaningful change begins.
Reflection prompts:
- What small change in your life feels ready to begin? Not the big life overhaul, just the next step.
- If you spoke to yourself with kindness, what would you allow to grow slowly?
Sometimes we don’t need to change everything all at once. Often, what we need most is a safe place to pause, reflect, and understand ourselves a little more deeply.. Growth unfolds at its own pace.
If something in this article resonated with you, therapy can offer a gentle place to begin exploring it.
If you’re noticing patterns in your life that you’d like to understand more deeply, or you feel ready to begin making small changes, I offer one-to-one therapy in a warm, non-judgemental space. Together, we can explore what is going on for you and move at a pace that feels right.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
Photo credit: Ruth Mulvany
The Journey Back to Loving Ourselves | Therapy with Emma
Published February 1, 2026

As February arrives and Valentine’s Day approaches, the subject of love feels unavoidable. Cards, flowers, and messages about romance and connection surround us. We’re encouraged to show love to partners, friends, and family… but how often do we pause to consider the relationship we have with ourselves?
For many of us, the journey towards self-love doesn’t begin with loving ourselves at all. It often starts with people-pleasing patterns. Putting others first, saying yes when we really mean no, or measuring our worth by how helpful, kind, or accommodating we can be. Somewhere along the way, we lose that connection with ourselves, and our own needs quietly slip to the bottom of the list.
People-pleasing is rarely about weakness. More often, it’s about safety, belonging, and early experiences that may have taught us that love or approval came through being “good,” easy, or useful. Over time, this can leave us feeling drained, resentful, or disconnected from our true selves. We give and give yet feel oddly empty.
Alongside this, many of us carry a strong inner critic. This inner voice can be harsh, demanding, or shaming, pushing us to do more, be more, or never quite feel good enough. Often, it developed as a way of protecting us... helping us stay accepted or avoid rejection. But over time, it can erode confidence and keep us stuck in cycles of self-doubt and self-sacrifice.
For me, the journey to loving myself has been a slow one. It began with treating myself with the care and attention that I deserve, noticing and working with my inner critic, and learning to be okay with myself. Over time, I focused on understanding my values and ensuring that my actions aligned with them. I noticed that when I lived in accordance with what mattered to me, I liked myself more, building that self-esteem (after all, as a wise lady reminds me.. if you want to have esteem, you have to do esteemable things). Now, I am transitioning into truly loving myself, and it remains an ongoing, evolving relationship.
Being kind to myself... in words, thoughts, and actions, is how I practice self-love day by day. It’s not about perfection, but about showing myself the same care and warmth I offer others.
Recently, I’ve done this by honouring myself, my time and the care I show myself in more practical ways. I noticed I had become a constant slave to my phone, so I decided to introduce "office hours" and give myself the gift of time at the beginning and end of the day to switch off and recharge. I now wait until after 8 am to respond to messages, giving myself time to meditate and write a gratitude list. I also have a clear cut-off in the evening for answering work emails and messages.
I know, and deeply appreciate, that I have to give to myself first before I can give to others. In doing so, I lead by example for my clients, showing how gently and intentionally taking time for yourself can become an act of care rather than something to feel guilty about.
The shift towards liking ourselves can feel unfamiliar and, at times, uncomfortable. It may begin simply with noticing when we override ourselves or gently questioning the guilt that shows up when we choose rest, boundaries, or honesty. Liking ourselves doesn’t mean we stop caring about others. It means we begin to include ourselves in the care we so freely give.
Self-love isn’t a destination or a permanent feeling. It’s a relationship, one that grows through compassion, curiosity, and patience. Some days, loving yourself might look like firm boundaries. Other days, it might look like softness, rest, or forgiveness. It’s about learning to relate to yourself with warmth rather than criticism.
Reflection prompts:
- Does your inner critic speak to you in the same way you would speak to a friend who was struggling?
- Where in your life do you notice yourself giving more than you have to give, and what might it be like to pause there?
- What small daily practices could help you show yourself the care and attention you deserve?
Self-love doesn’t arrive overnight. It unfolds slowly, often quietly, through small moments of choosing yourself. If you’re noticing patterns of people-pleasing, self-criticism, or feeling disconnected from your own needs, therapy can offer a supportive space to explore this gently and at your own pace.
If this resonates and you’d like support on your journey towards greater self-acceptance and self-love, I offer one-to-one therapy in a warm, non-judgemental space. Together, we can explore your relationship with yourself, work with self-criticism and boundaries, and move at a pace that feels right for you.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
Navigating the New Year Without Pressure | Therapy with Emma
Published January 6, 2026

The start of a new year is often painted as a time for transformation, goal-setting, and boundless energy. Everywhere we look, social media and marketing cheer: “New Year, New Me!”
But if we look to nature, spring is the time when the world awakens from her winter slumber, like the tree in the picture above, reaching for the blue sky but still bare of leaves. Her energy lies deeply rooted in the earth and won’t emerge until spring. Why do we therefore want to adhere to the clock and pull ourselves out of hibernation and unnaturally spring into action at the beginning of the year?
Christmas can be a time of pressure, and January can still carry some of that weight for many. Dark, cold nights lie ahead and long gone are the twinkly lights that may have made us feel warm and all aglow. Add onto these societal pressures of "new year, new me" and goal setting can leave many feeling depleted before they start. For many, this month carries residual pressure and a sense of obligation to move before their own body and mind feel ready.
Just like nature, we move through seasons in our own rhythm. In winter, the world slows, resting and regenerating. Trees stand bare, their roots deep in the earth, quietly storing energy for the burst of life to come in spring. Yet society asks us to mimic the energy of spring before our own inner season has arrived. We are encouraged to leap into goals, habits, and change while we are still in the quiet, reflective phase of winter.
Winter is meant for slowing, reflecting, and conserving energy. There’s no need to force action before your roots are ready to push upward. Attempting to do so can leave you depleted and frustrated.
The “new year, new me” culture can inadvertently heighten feelings of inadequacy. Seeing everyone else seemingly “springing” into action can make it feel like we’re falling behind. But growth doesn’t happen on a fixed timeline. Just as the trees wait for spring, your own energy and motivation follow their own rhythm.
January can also stir emotional weight left from the festive period, whether family stress, financial pressures, or just the abrupt return to routine after the holidays. Adding societal pressures on top of that can make the month feel even heavier.
Following your own rhythm feels like freedom and alignment. For me, this means I never set an alarm. I go to bed at roughly the same time each night and allow myself to wake naturally, letting my body and mind get the rest they need. There’s a sense of trust in this rhythm, a recognition that my energy and focus work best when I honour my internal timing, rather than a societal schedule.
I don’t subscribe to New Year’s resolutions as if transformation only happens in January. Change doesn’t require a specific date; it happens when I feel ready, from a space of awareness and intention. I do like to have a few goals, but these are set from the space I am in at the time, grounded in what feels authentic and achievable, rather than a checklist imposed by the calendar.
Instead of rushing, consider using this time for reflection, intention-setting, and gentle self-care. You don’t have to achieve everything at once. Your “new year” can unfold naturally, in a way that honours your own internal season.
Reflection Prompt:
- Ask yourself: “What feels ready to emerge in me right now, and what needs more time to root and grow?”
- Observe your energy without judgment and give yourself permission to move at your own pace.
Remember, the first steps of growth often happen quietly, below the surface, just like the roots of a tree preparing to reach for the sky.
January doesn’t need to be about rushing or forcing change. It can be a time of gentle presence, reflection, and planning at your own rhythm. By acknowledging the natural timing of our inner seasons, we give ourselves permission to grow steadily, deeply, and sustainably—so when spring truly arrives, we can emerge fully ready.
If you’d like support navigating your own rhythm, managing pressure, or exploring personal growth in a safe, confidential space, I offer one-to-one therapy sessions tailored to your needs. Together, we can explore what’s ready to emerge, work with your energy and timing, and create a path that feels authentic for you.
Warmly,
Emma
Counsellor & Psychotherapist
Therapy with Emma
